13 - Running Away
by kaahiescheck
Summary: Old title: A Monster Like Them, but nothing changed. Follow an enraged, out of his right mind Sirius as he goes to the Potters' house after having the ultimate fight with his family. Yes, he's had enough of it. T for two or three curses. Hope you like it!


That summer had been by far the rainiest one in decades. People did not leave the house unless strictly necessary, for the water was pouring down with an unusual strength and rage. Trees were swinging as its branches were hit by yet another drop of the violent rain, tilting downwards. Not a car could be seen on the streets, which were now almost pools; of course, not that a muggle car would be seen in this neighbourhood.

The wind was strong, almost life-threatening. On the corner, a tree had fallen over and blocked part of an interception. All the large, wide bushes that followed the path to the front door of the manor were moving rapidly, making scary sounds, which were hidden by the loud thunders. Nobody in their right minds would dare to step outside.

And yet he was there, under the thunderstorm that had been attacking all Britain during summer. Muggles didn't have a clue... Unusual clouds behaviour, they said? Yes, definitely Voldemort's second name had to be something near it.

Putting the sarcasm aside, he was risking himself by wandering around in times like these, when Death Eaters were forming groups and hunting him down. He snorted at this thought. As if his family hadn't hunted him down long enough. But now he was about done with them. Done with his mother's screams and her insistence on keeping the family's pureblood legacy. Done with his father's punishments for every single thing that left his mouth. Done with trying to make Regulus see the light; he was just as lost as their parents.

His great O.W.L.s grades hadn't earned him more than a typical "It could have been an _outstanding_! All of them could have! You stupid prat! Disgrace to the Black name, that's what you are." Rubbing his goddamned _O_ in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts – which could be considered modest, since all of his grades had been excellent – on his mother's face probably hadn't been one of his best ideas, but he couldn't help it. She claimed he shouldn't be good at _fighting_ the dark arts.

Rage rose inside of him again – not like it ever left, but the rain had certainly cooled him down for a moment there. Now that he was almost reaching the front door's steps he remembered why he was here in the first place. Bloody family, if he could even call them his family. That had been the last straw – quite ironic during a pour down – and his cue to leave. And he meant _leave_. He wasn't coming back, ever again. His parents had made sure of that. The tones of their voices had been more than clear to him.

His fist banged the big wooden door in front of him as he came to a stop, his blood ranging on his ears. His hair was glued to his cheeks, soaked wet, and so were his clothes to his skin and to one another. His wand was still in his hand, ready to be used at any sight that he had been followed. Nevertheless, nobody would follow him. He knew that for sure.

Just as he was preparing himself to knock on the door again, it opened. At first, he saw nobody in front of him, but then he looked down and found the Potters' house elf, Helloah, with a hand on the doorknob, slightly shaking. It was understandable. Lately, as more people disappeared, you had to be careful when somebody knocked on you door, especially during such a lovely weather. But the elf recognized him quickly, and her expression of fear soon turned into a mixture of smile and frown.

"Mr Black!" said Helloah.

He didn't let her add anything else; none of the _Helloah is delighted, sir! To what do we owe your visit? _stuff. He didn't trust himself to behave at the moment; therefore a conversation was out of the question. Gritting his teeth as an attempt not to sound as insanely enraged as he was, he managed, "Call James."

He didn't need to say it twice. Helloah noticed his mood and quickly disappeared into the house. The seconds of waiting almost got him pulling his hair out. He wanted to scream and hit something. Deep down, he wished Snivellus would somehow happen to cross the street. There would be no better thing than to curse him, over and over. But he kept himself standing on the door porch until James came running down the dark marble stairs and hit the door/stopped in front of him. "Hey, Padfoot! Helloah told me you were..."

James's voice trailed off for a reason. In fact, for a couple of reasons. He wasn't exactly used to having his best mate looking like he could kill someone, especially during such a strong thunderstorm. Never had Sirius shown up at his house dripping wet, from head to toe, with an expression that scared even James away.

"Merlin, Sirius," James muttered, quickly pulling his friend inside and closing the door. "Are you insane? What the bloody hell happened?"

"_They_ happened," Sirius spat. He felt something soft being pressed against his hand and looked down. Helloah was handing him a towel, which he gratefully grabbed. However, it did nothing to ease his anger. "Or, apparently, _I_ happened to exist, which doesn't even make sense, because _they_ were the ones who made me!" Even being mad out of his mind, he was still Sirius. "I'm just about DONE with their stupidity."

James didn't need to ask who "they" were. For five years, Sirius's family had been torturing him, picking on him for breaking the family's tradition. The Blacks' house had to be very strong in order not to blow up with their explosive tempers, of both his parents' and his. Sirius would never accept to be treated like that and his family would never accept a blood traitor. James knew it was about time things got real ugly.

"What happened?" he asked again, keeping his tone reasonable as his best mate paced madly in front of him. Sirius's hands were twisting and grabbing each other; a common gesture he did every time he was controlling himself not to destroy the room. James hadn't missed when Sirius had thrown his wand in his pocket before stepping in, which only showed him the gravity of the situation.

"The same bullshit of always!" Sirius said, throwing his hands up in frustration and anger. Then, mimicking his mother's voice, he quoted, "'You useless worm! You're no son of mine, not whilst you befriend filthy mudbloods and blood traitors!' and her usual lecture." Noticing James's slight frown, he added, "Dear mother saw me shouting goodbye to Evans on the platform, and even if I was only teasing she didn't take it well. You know her."

James_ knew_ Mrs Black and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what had happened afterwards. Noticing that his friend was shaking not only out of anger, he called Helloah and told her to get some hot tea. Then he led Sirius into the living room, making him sit in front of the big fireplace, on a comfortable armchair. Sirius didn't stop talking.

"As if she didn't hate me enough. She kept reading into my actions far too deeply and got to the conclusion I was friends with dozens of muggleborns instead of just assuming I wasn't a monster like the rest of the family. She blamed _me_ for not acting like her _sweet_ _favourite son Regulus_."

He had to stop for a moment after spitting the name of his younger brother, and James let it be; he knew Regulus was a touchy subject. Sirius ran a hand through his face and took a deep breath. "Then earlier today I had had enough of it and said some pretty bad things to her before walking up to my bedroom and locking myself up."

"And I presume she didn't let it slip," James said, seeing as his friend maybe needed a little help to go on with the story.

"She pretty much tore my bedroom's door from its hinges and pointed her wand at me," he raised his voice. "I don't know what spell that was, but something pulled me out of the room by my bloody _ear_ – you know how much she hates it in there, with all the Gryffindor stuff. Then she started yelling at me right there, hexing me every once in a while." He paused, staring at the fire. "I told her she was being a blind idiot and... I just lost control and..."

His eyes turned to James, who simply nodded. He didn't have to tell the rest of the story, for it was obvious to his best mate what had happened. Sirius lost control quite often when it came to fights with his mother, but something about the madness that lingered in his eyes made James feel uneasy.

Before Sirius could go on, the door of the living room was thrown open, revealing a very worried Dorea Potter. Behind her, Helloah was holding a tray with the tea James had asked for and she started making her way towards the two boys, slowly. Mrs Potter, on the other hand, when she laid eyes on a soaked Sirius, she rushed forwards, walking past the elf.

"My dear!" she said as Sirius awkwardly stood, very aware that he had been wetting their armchair and their floor and probably living a trail of dirt behind him. He was ready to be yelled at when Mrs Potter held his shoulders, looking very concernedly at him. "Don't tell me you were out under that storm! Have you gone mad? Oh, look at you! Helloah, leave the tray on the coffee table, would you please, and bring more blankets for him! You're going to catch a terrible cold if you don't get warm in this instant!"

"Honestly, Mrs Potter," Sirius tried to say, hiding his anger, "I'm alright. You don't need to worry about–"

"Spare me," she cut him off. "You are going to take a hot shower right now and put on some dry clothes. Going out under this weather! You are lucky if you don't catch pneumonia! What were you thinking when you left the house?"

Sirius knew it was mostly a rhetorical question and had to use all of his inner control to try to keep a straight face. Unfortunately, it barely worked. Mrs Potter's face fell. She knew how Sirius's parents were. She could only imagine what happened inside that house. James never mentioned anything to her, and she wouldn't have asked, but the way her son was eyeing his best mate told her everything.

"Go get warmed, Sirius," Mrs Potter said. "You can borrow a couple of James's clothes. We'll be waiting here with hot tea and more blankets." Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs Potter didn't let him. "No arguing. Go on."

He managed a smile. Quite often, Sirius envied James. The guy had got the greatest parents ever. Mr and Mrs Potter had always been infinitely kind and welcoming towards Sirius, which only reminded him of his _own_ bloody parents who didn't give a damn about him. Despite trying to struggle away from Mrs Potter quick embrace out of politeness – he didn't want her to get her clothes wet –, he really did need a bit of motherly care in the moment.

As soon as the door closed behind Sirius, Mrs Potter took her seat next to James on the couch, worryingly tapping her fingers on her knee. She studied her son for a moment, in silence, as he watched the fire with a concerned expression. James had his elbow on his knee and had rested his chin on his palm. His glasses reflected the flames, keeping his mother from seeing his eyes.

"Did he fight with his parents?" Mrs Potter asked at last.

"You could say that," James answered, still not looking at her.

"And was it bad enough for him to throw himself in a storm like that?"

"It was quite awful."

They were silent for a moment. Mrs Potter had shut herself because her son seemed to be deep in thoughts and concern, but she couldn't keep herself. It wasn't only curiosity. She cared about Sirius dearly and wanted to know whether she could help.

"How often does this happen?" she asked. James looked stunned for a moment, backing up to look at her. "You aren't tricking me into believing this is a rare occurrence, James. I know own my niece."

James sighed deeply and turned back to the fire. "I'd say it happens pretty much every day when he's home." He grimaced. "He wouldn't call it home, for sure. It's routine now. He refuses to behave like the rest of his family, his mother accuses him of being a blood traitor, she starts yelling at him and hexing him, his father joins the party, his brother laughs in the corner, and then he loses it." James took a deep breath. "He hasn't been expelled for using magic outside school because _everybody_ is using as well when he does, but if he wasn't in a house full of wizards..." He paused. "It's bloody horrible there."

Mrs Potter didn't even scold him for bad language. She found herself wanting to give Sirius a hundred more hugs. The poor boy didn't deserve that; he was such a sweet, yet annoying, person.

"How long has this been happening?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not sure, mom. He never–"

"James Potter, don't you lie to me on this matter. This is serious."

James didn't even laugh at the pun she had just made and turned to his mother, noticing her demanding tone. He couldn't lie to her. It was almost like lying to Lily; they had a way of finding out the truth about him, even when he didn't want them to.

"Since he was sorted into Gryffindor," he answered grimly. "Ever since then, his life at home has been a living hell. You said yourself: you know the Blacks and their pureblood obsession. They just couldn't take it when they heard he didn't care about it. He couldn't even tell me what happened to him when they found out he had muggleborn friends. He could barely talk now about the time his parents saw him saying goodbye to Lily on the platform."

"Lily?" his mother asked confused.

"Lily Evans," James said quickly, hoping she hadn't noticed him blushing or that if she had, that she had mistaken it for the flames' reflections. But she could never have missed the way he spoke her name, she thought to herself. "She's muggleborn. She's starting to be almost civil to us now."

"Oh!" Understanding filled Mrs Potter's face and she held back a smile. "I remember her. Remus and Sirius mentioned her a couple of times."

"Um, yes," he said before she could add anything. "But the point _is_..." He paused. "I don't think this fight with his parents was just any other. I've never seen him like this."

"Well," Mrs Potter said, standing and grabbing the tray with the tea, "tell him he can stay here for as long as he wants. I'm going to get this tea hot again. Helloah is very busy already trying to stop that drip on the third floor."

James nodded absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on the fire. Usually, the mention of Lily wiped everything from his mind for a couple of minutes, especially during summer, when he couldn't see her daily, but not this time. He was too worried about Sirius to think of anything else at the moment.

Sirius didn't take long to reappear in the living room, with dry clothes on and reddened cheeks due to the shower's heat. He looked a bit calmer, but James knew better; it would take more than his mother's hospitality to make Sirius forget even for a moment about his disastrous relationship with his family. The insults Mrs Black threw at him every day wouldn't be wiped from his memory so soon.

Sirius took his place by the fire again, followed by Helloah, who dropped about three blankets on his lap. He gladly wrapped himself in them and sent the elf a smile. Helloah bowed to Sirius and then to James and excused herself. James only had time to send his mate a meaningful look before his mother entered the room again with the tray.

"Feeling better?" Mrs Potter asked as she handed Sirius a cup of tea.

"Much," he managed a smile. "Thank you, Mrs Potter. But you honestly don't need to worry. I've already soaked your entrance hall, so seriously, if you wanna kick me out–"

"Don't you ever say such a thing! You're staying here."

She handed James a cup of tea as well and, noticing the feeling that lingered in the air, she excused herself, leaving the boys alone. It was obvious that Sirius needed to talk to somebody, but he wouldn't if she were in the room.

"It was worse this time, wasn't it?" James asked quietly. Sirius only nodded as he sipped his drink.

"I'm not going back there, Prongs."

James didn't doubt for a second whether his best mate was serious about it. He knew Sirius would have nowhere to go, but it wasn't this thought that made him speak out. Even if he _had_ a place to stay, James wouldn't let it be anywhere else but here.

"You can stay here," he offered. "My parents don't mind it. In fact, I'm pretty sure they'll love the idea."

Sirius shook his head with the smallest of the smile on his lips. "I don't want to bother. I just came here because it was the first friendly place that popped up in my mind. I don't think your mother would stand me for more than two days."

"Rubbish!" James waved his hand. "She loves you. Besides, if you're not going back... well, you gotta live somewhere. It's not like I'm gonna let you live as a dog in the streets, Padfoot, don't even try and argue."

Sirius laughed for the first time in weeks; a genuine laugh that made him happy for a moment. But it died as quickly as it had started. A smile lingered on his lips for a moment as he noticed James's protective tone.

"I..." Sirius started, unsure of how to say it. He cleared his throat. "I can't just barge in like that, mate, and... I-I don't even think I _should_ –"

"I'm not taking no for an answer," James said, ending the discussion. Sirius hesitated for moment, and then relaxed against the couch. "Thank you," he said after a pause.


End file.
